


Of Eagles and Serpents

by Cupcakeking



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Teacher-Student Relationship, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 05:56:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17238662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cupcakeking/pseuds/Cupcakeking
Summary: Hey! so this is a bit of a short first chapter, as I'm still trying to figure out my pace and all that jazz, but the next will most definitely be a bit longer. i am unbeta'd so please alert me to any mistakes you see and I'll make sure to look them over. this is just kind of an experiment but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless





	Of Eagles and Serpents

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! so this is a bit of a short first chapter, as I'm still trying to figure out my pace and all that jazz, but the next will most definitely be a bit longer. i am unbeta'd so please alert me to any mistakes you see and I'll make sure to look them over. this is just kind of an experiment but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless

A new day dawned outside the old buckling walls of Yvain Stone’s cramped single-story cottage, the thick foliage outside her window pane dyeing the incoming light a soft green. She lay in bed, arms stretched above her, ever so slightly brushing the nearly-crumbling stone walls with her knuckles. The faded yellow of her old quilt enveloped her like a thick cocoon, the stray fibres tickling her neck. 

Yvain swept her eyes lazily about the room, her sight stopping soundly on the already packed trunk, nearly bursting at the seams with books and robes and whatever else she had packed in her excited frenzie the night prior. She at last rose out of bed, the old springs groaning under her release, and began to make her way to her small kitchen, which took quite a bit longer than one would assume as nearly all the large checkerboard tiles were cracked or missing pieces and so one had to be quite careful when navigating the terrain. Especially when one was holding such precious cargo as Yvain was. 

She stopped quite suddenly upon entering the many-windowed room and gripped the sturdy but heavily scuffed marble counter-top, feeling a lightness in her head and a tightness in her chest. She cursed upon remembering she hadn’t eaten dinner the previous night, too caught up in her excitement and anxieties for the oncoming year. Upon regaining her footing she began rummaging through the cupboards, finding naught other than some slightly stale bread and old teacakes from a few weeks prior she began to curse her irresponsibility, but nevertheless made do with dry toast, promising to buy herself something more filling once she arrived in London.

The trip to London itself was uneventful, in the sense that she had completed it twice a year for the past six years, only this would be just the second time she traversed it alone. Though it was the only time she would be alone on the journey  _ to _ the station. 

Yvain was shocked at the hustle and bustle of the busy train station after spending so long in near isolation, she set out at once to find a trolley she could put her trunk on, as the wheels had knocked off long ago and it was far too heavy for someone in her state to carry even ten feet. By the time she had found a trolley and satisfactory food she had nearly run into the wrong dividing wall and missed her train, but at last she passed through and stood before  _ it _ . The great crimson beast, spewing thick pewter coal smoke out of its pipes, its harsh whistle echoing in the air, all familiar and comforting sights that gave her the last bit of courage she needed to hoist herself through the door and off the platform, of course with a little help from the kindly boy who helped her lug her overstuffed trunk through the door and into the nearest empty compartment. 

The effort that was needed to put her trunk in the overhead compartment was just too much to handle at the moment and so she settled with just laying it at her feet in between the two benches, severely limiting her foot space but with the added benefit of disallowing other students to enter comfortably. Yvain had decided she would much rather endure this portion of the trip by her lonesome, if just to spare the uncomfortableness others would surely feel had they been forced to room with her while she  went over and recounted the various things that had led to that one fateful and severely regretful night - well, to be fair, several nights - that had put her in the position she was in at the moment. There were bound to be some tears, perhaps some unsophisticated snivelling and most definitely a few of the ever-cliche ‘Why me, world? Why me!’. Definitely not something she would wish upon a wee firstie, how horrible a first introduction to Europe's highest regarded wizarding school that would be. Better off she was alone. 

Yvain had just started to sink into a rather nice sleep, having woken up far earlier than her circadian rhythms normally allowed, when she heard a gaggle of seventh years making their way through the car. The cackles and guffaws of her ever encroaching yearmates nearly activating her fight or flight response, an unwelcome side effect of two months of near isolation. She calmed significantly when she saw them pass over her without a second glance and tried again to nap, though to no avail. The nonsensical panic from the near encounter left her far more awake than she would have liked. 

The next few hours passed her by far quicker than she wanted, it being her last year she wanted to savor the last expedition. The Scottish countryside, ever idyllic, flew past in a smattering of green and brown. 

Slowly the landscape began to change, from nearly desolate highlands sweeping out to the distance as far as the eye could see, to a slowly building collection of houses, first one, then two, then a little group of three, and so on. Until finally, if she craned her neck just so, Yvain caught sight of hogsmeade station, just outside of the village. 

The express pulled into the station with a scraping cry on the tracks, its steam whistle blowing a harsh shriek to alert riders and station attendants alike to their arrival. She heard a group of first years cheering in the box beside her and she shivered subconsciously out of panic. She was encroaching ever closer onto his territory and she could feel it. A little fluttering movement in her gut told her it too could feel them getting ever closer to him, or at least that’s what she told herself. It was probably just her anxiety making it a little uneasy. She wondered if it would be better to stop calling it ‘it’, maybe ‘he’? ‘She’? ‘Fetus’? All three made it feel too real, like there was really something there; a human, right inside of her. Of course, it was real, but Yvain wanted to sit comfortably in the dark for as long as she could, but it seemed that the light was slowly encroaching, though by no wish of her own. 

 


End file.
